


Promise It To Me

by Bryellii



Series: Western AU [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 21:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13396881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bryellii/pseuds/Bryellii
Summary: A hanging tree, he remembered hearing about it. But the only thing close to such a thing was a cursed town, trapping the souls of the broken. Little did he know that he would eventually help mend one of those souls, the same being done for himself.





	Promise It To Me

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here's the Creek oneshot :)
> 
> I loved writing this fic, and want to hopefully use more of this concept in the future
> 
> The title of the story comes from "Shut Eye" by Stealing Sheep, and was slightly inspired by Raquel Simoso's animatic

It was just around noon when he had arrived. His hat tilted to the side of his head, blond hair poking out from under it in a messy fashion, his plaid green flannel buttoned as if he were in a hurry. He was twitching ever so slightly as his tired, unusually green eyes peered out from under the brim of the hat. The boy was lost, it was definitely easy to do so in the vast, open wasteland. His trusty steed had been brought to the stables, though never taken inside for fear of how dirty the other two horses were.

Bridle tied to the pole, he took a good look around the small town and slipped away from the wooden structure. It was mostly empty, but he assumed it was because of how hot it was in the blazing sun. He wiped a bead of sweat from his face, then slunk into the shade of the saloon’s porch. He took a deep breath, then pushed open the doors. He had instantly regretted it as everyone’s gaze was now focused on him, and only him. He fought back a noise that would irk anyone in the proximity. It was the reason why he disliked coming into public places of the sort.

He pulled the tip of his hat down and over his eyes, staring directly at the ground as his hands fidgeted with one another. He slumped over onto the counter, waiting for the bartender to notice him. “Hey,” a cool, monotone voice suddenly said, causing the blond to jolt up, eyes wide. “Calm down, just wanna know what you’re ordering,” the man continued. The jittery boy stared at him for a moment, still tense, and then slowly relaxed once he realized that the noirette in front of him had no intent of harming him.

“Do-- do you serve-- ngh-- c-coffee?” The blond responded, to which the bartender hesitantly nodded. There were a few laughs from the table behind him, the group’s game of poker continuing, though the laughter was obviously directed towards him and not anything that had come from the five of them. The sound of wood scraping against wood caused him to look over, a girl sitting down in her somewhat stylish pink outfit. There was not a trace of dust on her.

“You know,” she muttered, not facing him, but he could see her brown eyes focus on him, “nobody comes here without reason.” He stared for moment, studying her. A shot of whiskey was slid down the counter to her. It must have been a favourite of hers, he decided.

“Tell me, blondie, what are you running from?”

The question caught him off-guard, and he tensed once more, though didn’t respond. The lady took his silence as an answer, and decided to drop the question. For now, at least. She downed the shot, then turned to completely face him. Her face was kind, and her dark hair was pulled back into what he assumed was a bun, which was neatly hidden under her white-and-pink hat. “The name’s Wendy,” she said, holding her hand out for him. “...Tweek,” he responded, taking her hand and firmly shaking it. A mug was placed in front of him only a moment later, receiving no sort of reply as Tweek thanked the bartender.

He returned to his work, which was mainly just polishing a single glass. Tweek never understood why they did that. Perhaps just for show? He discarded the thought, turning around in the stool to clasp the warm mug in his hands. There was more laughter as one of the members of the group playing cards had commented on Tweek’s appearance.

“Yeah, he totally takes it in the ass,” a gruff-sounding voice said, a response coming from another man, though his voice was much smoother and a bit deep, “Not to be gay or anything, but I wouldn’t mind taking a twink to bed.” The sound of a slap echoed throughout the saloon, catching Tweek’s attention. “Leave him alone,” this had come from a brunette he had not seen before. His caramel colored eyes were narrowed at the boy clad in orange, who smirked back at him.

“Or what, Donovan?” The blue-eyed boy responded, now standing up and, as Tweek noticed, was practically towering over ‘Donovan.’ Tweek went to stand up, to yell at the other to stop, but a hand gripped his shoulder. His eyes darted behind him, meeting with azure ones. “Leave them,” the bartender said. And when his gaze returned to the two, he saw them pressed against each other, the brunette’s back against the wall, and in a heated makeout session. Tweek felt heat rise up to his face, then turned back around to face the counter again. The group was catcalling the two, and there were a few wolf whistles.

“Hey, not in my sight, Kenny,” the bartender called to them, “Clyde’s got a room upstairs, so if you’re gonna do anything then do it up there.” There were a few snickers as Tweek saw the two exit from the corner of his eye. The bartender soon returned his gaze to the blond, still cleaning that single glass, which was already spotless. “If they were actually gonna fight, I would’ve stopped them. I’d rather not have to clean blood stains off of the floor,” he stated. “Y-Yeah, but now you-- you have to worry about other-- ack! Stains,” Tweek responded with a slight grin. The bartender hummed in response, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

The noise had died down a considerate amount, and it was quite peaceful as he finished the caffeinated drink. He was actually quite surprised that they would even serve such a thing in a place like this, but he wasn’t complaining. It was much better than what his parents made. “So,” the bartender’s monotone voice spoke up, “why are you here?”

Tweek looked up, brows furrowed, and seemed almost offended that he was asked such a question. “...what?” This was the second person to have asked within the last hour, and it seemed so common to ask. The noirette rolled his eyes, “What drove you here, kid. You don’t just stumble across this town, y’know. You have to have a reason to be here.” Wendy had said something similar to that earlier…

And he waited patiently for Tweek’s answer, though he never did get a response.

“I ran away from home because of my parents,” the man said, “They didn’t like me for who I was. Not of their bloodline, apparently. Adopted Peruvian, and a homosexual.” The words were spit out of his mouth as if it had a sour taste, and the last part sort of stole its way into the back of Tweek’s mind. The same thing with his parents, though he was of their blood.

“You should ask the others about what happened to them, it’s actually somewhat interesting,” he continued, “but stay away from Cartman.” He nodded towards the plump brunette that was arguing with a redhead seated beside him. “He’s bad news, and the reason why we’re all trapped here.”

Tweek looked towards the bartender again, “W-What do you mean?”

“That guy’s the fucking Devil. He showed up one day with that compass tattoo on the back of his hand. I doubt you’d know anything about it, but that spells out trouble,” he responded, “By the way, I’m Tucker. Craig Tucker.” He didn’t hold out his hand, which slightly bothered Tweek, though he’d never actually admit it. “I-I’m--” He started, but Craig cut him off, “Tweek, I know. I overheard you and Wendy talking earlier.”

Silence was ensured afterwards, though Craig coughed into his sleeve to make things less awkward, hopefully. “Anyway, promise me something, Tweek,” Craig said, then received a quizzical look from said boy. “There’s a train coming through town today. I want you to get the hell out of this town before you’re trapped, too.”

Craig shook his head a little, “Listen, I know it sounds odd, but I like you, kid. You’ve got potential, and you shouldn’t be forced to live in this miserable environment because you were thinking of doing something out of agony. This place isn’t as much of a sanctuary as it appears to be.” Tweek didn’t respond, letting the words sink in.

“Only if you go with me.”

 

. . .

 

The two had chatted more afterwards, then a whistle startled everyone who was still in the saloon, many people standing up and rushing out. Craig jumped over the counter, holding onto Tweek’s hand, and followed after them. “Come on, Tweek, pick up the pace,” Craig said, heels hitting the ground, hard, as the whistle got louder and louder. The railroad was clattering, a bell sounding somewhere close by, but he could not see a train.

“I don’t see--” Tweek went to say, but was then silenced as a whir of grey whirled past him. His green eyes went wide and he practically clung onto Craig, his heartbeat quickening as he realized just how close to the tracks they were. And following right after the last train car were the people he had seen sitting in the saloon, all on horses.

Tweek had learned their names as they chatted with one another, learning that Clyde and Kenny had come to this God-forsaken place together, Stan (Wendy had mentioned that he was her past lover, though their breakup drove him out here) and Kyle arriving at around the same time and becoming best friends almost immediately, and Wendy had come to hunt down Stan, and thought he was dead. She couldn’t handle it, and the constant fighting between her and a close friend had only drove her closer and closer to…

He was suddenly hoisted up onto the saddle of a horse, which was recognized as his own, by Craig. “I’m surprised Cartman hasn’t showed up yet,” he commented as they followed the group. They were now starting to catch up, getting closer and closer until something rammed into them, Craig’s gaze turned to the side, meeting with brownish-red and light blue eyes.

The tattoo on his hand was easily recognizable, and so was the smirk plastered onto his face. “Sorry, fags, but you’re not leaving yet,” it was the same gruff voice that had easily identified Tweek as being gay earlier. The wind had picked up and Tweek pulled his hat down over his face to avoid getting dust in his eyes. “Shit,” he heard Craig mumble, then looked back up. The others were gone now, and so was Cartman.

“W-Where did he g-go?!” Tweek exclaimed, but a harsh tug on his shirt was the only answer he needed. He jumped, clinging onto Craig again as the noirette made the Pinto gallop faster. The wind was harsher than before, but they continued to push through. A promise was made between them, and neither of them would go back on it. They had met at noon, it was sunset now, but it was as if they had known each other for their entire lives.

This must have been fate, Tweek believed. He was brought here for a reason, and not because he was going to the hanging tree, which the old, misty oak was deemed after countless legends of it drawing in hopeless souls and permanently removing them from this world.

He felt Craig squeeze his hand reassuringly, as they were bumped again, though much harder this time. The horse almost toppled over from the force, but somehow managed to stay on her hooves, easily regaining balance with the correct pull on the reins. They drew closer and closer to the train, and it was now within reach.

Another tug, but this time Tweek had turned around and hit Cartman so hard that he fell off of his Knabstrupper, the wind cutting off almost immediately as he did. Tweek looked forward to find Craig balancing himself on the horse, his hand clutching onto the blond’s tightly. He was not holding the reins, but had managed to grab onto the roof of the freight-car instead. “Come on, kid, this is our only chance,” he said, azure eyes connecting with Tweek's lime ones.

He steadied himself the best he could, then clung to Craig’s waist. His heart was racing, most likely from how anxious this was making him. He almost hurled from the pressure. Oh God, what if he slipped? What if they missed the steel floors of the car? What if--

Craig jumped, and swung inside of the open gap. Tweek could’ve sworn that he shrieked, wondering if the noirette had lost his mind. They landed safely on the floor, the Pinto now being long forgotten as the town faded away in the distance. As soon as Tweek turned to face Craig to scold him for almost giving him a heart attack, he felt something warm press against his lips, his hat being removed from the top of his head.

And to Tweek’s surprise, it was Craig’s own lips that had melded against his own. He returned the kiss for a moment, but then the warmth had gone away. Tweek blinked open his eyes, looking at Craig. This was the first smile he had seen on his face, and he felt his heart try to thump out of his chest.

“So… what are we gonna do now?” Craig asked, resting his head against Tweek’s. He thought for a moment, then replied,

“I don’t care, s-so long as I get to stay b-by your side.”


End file.
